


An Evening Out

by thievinghippo



Series: Sonya Shepard [7]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 11:55:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2387414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thievinghippo/pseuds/thievinghippo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We'll host a military ball, the Alliance said. It'll be fun, they said. Luckily, Shepard and Garrus are quite good at making their own fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Evening Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cfs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cfs/gifts).



> For cfs. Happy Birthday! Thank you for being you and an awesome all around person. :D

Shepard couldn’t help but stroke the satiny material of the dress in front of her. “Traynor, you are genius,” Shepard said. “Remind me to give you a raise.”

Traynor beamed at the praise. “I adore dress shopping. Thank you so much for letting me do this.”

“You’re welcome to buy all of my clothes from now on,” Shepard said with a laugh. The crewmen around her in the CIC all seemed to strain to get a glimpse of what was going on. She’d be walking through soon enough. Let them gossip then. She zipped up the garment bag and threw it over her shoulder. “Thank you again, Traynor. I would never had time to shop for a dress in all of this.”

“Go get changed,” Traynor ordered. “You’re going to be late if you don’t hurry.”

Snapping off a salute, Shepard walked to the elevator. The door opened just after she palmed the console. Moments later, she let herself into her quarters. “Garrus?” she asked as she entered, wondering if he’d be there.

“In the ‘fresher,” he answered.

Shepard leaned against the open bathroom door, watching Garrus stand in front of the sink, staring into the mirror. He wore a pair of black, dark grey, and red trousers, but no shirt. Her eyes lingered on his shoulders, moving down to his waist. Knowing if she said anything, he would become embarrassed, Shepard simply allowed herself a moment to enjoy the view. Then she realized he held a device she hadn’t seen before, something that looked like a giant toenail clipper. “What are you doing?” she asked curiously. As a rule, Garrus almost always woke up before her, so Shepard wasn’t privy to his morning routine.

“Just trimming my fringe,” he said, placing the trimmer at the side of his face. “Was getting a bit too long for my liking.”

“Does it hurt?” Shepard asked.

Garrus shook his head. “No more than clipping my talons.” He pressed down and Shepard cringed at the sound, almost as bad as nails on a chalk board. He glanced her way then. “Why am I half dressed and you’re still in a BDU?”

“Because I am stalling,” Shepard announced as she walked into the main part of the room. “I still can’t believe the Alliance thinks this is a good idea. Udina tried to kill the Council less than two weeks ago, and now we’re throwing not just a party, but a formal ball in their honor?”

After placing the garment bag on the bed, Shepard walked over to her clothes drawer and pulled out her best underwear. Normally, she was a cotton bra and underwear kind of gal, and if they actually matched one day? She pretended she did it on purpose.

As she started to take off her BDU, Shepard had the distinct feeling she was being watched. Willing to indulge Garrus, Shepard took her time stripping, making sure to stretch her arms high over her head once she was naked. Garrus rewarded her with appreciative subvocals before she put on her good underwear.

The clock was ticking now, so Shepard walked past Garrus into the bathroom to put on some makeup. One of the best things about having a shaved head was never having to worry about your hair. Garrus had shaved her head the night before, so it looked nice and even. Most mornings, if Shepard found time to put on lip gloss and mascara, she called it a win. She hardly even found time to put on more makeup, even if she liked the results. But for tonight, she’d do more than just her daily routine.

“Better hurry, Shepard,” Garrus said.

She left the bathroom to find Garrus sitting her desk, completely dressed. “So that’s turian military dress, huh?” she said, looking him up and down. “It suits you.”

“Well, Victus said no hard suits, so I really didn’t have a choice,” Garrus said. “You wearing your dress uniform?”

“I am not,” Shepard said. “It’s archaic, but officers who identify as female don’t have to. They can wear a dress. So what the hell? I’m wearing a dress.” She unzipped the garment bag and brought out the dress. Half silver, half navy, colors of the Alliance, made of a light satiny material. The dress was strapless, letting Shepard show off her shoulders and back, some of her best features, in her opinion. “What do you think?” She held the dress up in front of her. “Does it scream, ‘no, I don’t work with Cerberus any longer, please stop asking?’ Because that’s the look I’m going for.”

“I think you picked a winner,” Garrus said.

Shepard grinned, hearing the lust in his subvocals. Too bad she already put them behind schedule; they didn’t have time to do anything about it now. Quickly, the dress was donned, along with a spray of perfume, and Shepard thought they were ready to go. “Let’s meet Ashely,” she said, grabbing his hand.

As they walked into the elevator, Garrus asked, “Think the press will be there?”

“Of course they will be,” Shepard said with a roll of her eyes. “At least we unwittingly let the entire galaxy know we’re a couple already.” She let out a small laugh, thinking how they had been caught kissing on the Citadel after she returned from her trip to Omega with Aria.

The elevator doors opened and Shepard noticed that the CIC seemed to be much more crowded than it should be for the middle of second shift. She supposed she should have expected it. Ten years ago, she would have waited around for a glimpse of her commanding officer dressed up as well. Garrus offered her his arm and together they strolled through the CIC, Shepard quickly saying hello to each of the small groups of her crew.

“You clean up good, Shepard,” Joker said, standing in the doorway of the cockpit.

“It’s just a shame that I clean up better,” Ashley said, placing a hand on her hip.

Shepard took a moment to look Ashley over. The second human SPECTRE did not lie. She wore a lavender gown, made of floaty material, with a matching shawl wrapped around her shoulders, and her hair up in a twist. “Damn, Ash,” Shepard said, “you’re gorgeous.”

“I love dressing up,” Ashley said with a grin. “But we’re going to be late if my date doesn’t get here soon.”

“I’m here!” Liara said, walking up to the group quickly, holding up her dress slightly so she wouldn’t trip. The dress was simple, but stunning. White with embroidery covering the entire dress, which had a high neck and sleeves that went down to Liara’s wrists. “Apologies. It’s getting harder and harder to leave my terminal these days.”

The quartet left the ship, ignoring Joker’s cries of making sure they were home by midnight _._  Thankfully, Shepard saw no press, but she did see refugees. Part of her hated the idea of going to a fancy party with good food while refugees on the Citadel might not have enough to eat. But this was politics. The Alliance had to convince the Council to let them fill Udina’s seat. The fact that all messages and traffic for Udina were being forwarded to the asari council was bad enough. Humanity had to be able to contribute again. Hopefully this evening would give them a chance to prove it.

As they made their way to the taxi stand, Shepard smiled to herself, thinking of the last time she and Garrus took this same taxi: on the way to pick up the skycar which brought them to the top of the presidium. And when Garrus squeezed her hand a bit, she knew he thought the same thing. They settled into the taxi, which would bring them to the banquet hall where the ball would be held, Shepard being extra careful not to snag her dress on anything.

“So I had it on good authority that you planned on going to this shingding solo, Ash,” Shepard said.

“That had been the plan,” Ashley said with a nod. “But when I came back on board, I promised Liara a girl’s night.” She gestured at their dresses. “Do I know how to deliver, or what?”

“And Garrus is just here for the food,” Shepard said dryly, putting her hand on his knee. Normally they shied around from any sort of public affection. But they weren’t in uniform and they were with friends. She could indulge.

“I get an evening of actual dextro food, not ratios,” Garrus said, placing his hand over hers. “Damn right I’m here for the food.”

The conversation quickly turned from their evening back to the war, and their plans to leave the Citadel tomorrow for the Perseus Veil. Shepard hadn’t heard from Tali lately, which worried her. But she pushed the errant thought back, determined to have a good time tonight.

As the taxi started to slow down, Shepard glanced out the window, seeing a great deal of press lined up, waiting for photos and vid opportunities. “It’s up to you all, but I’m not speaking to the press,” Shepard announced. It hadn’t been that long since she had the interview with Allers. And as much as Allers spouted that wars were won or lost in the editing room, Shepard knew the press would have no say in the results of this one.

“Don’t worry, skipper,” Ashley said. “I just gave al-Jilani an interview after the SPECTRE ceremony. I’ve had my fill of the press.”

“You know they’re not getting anything out of me,” Garrus said while Liara gave an approving nod.

The taxi door opened and Shepard immediately heard the press cry out her name and saw the flashes of drone cameras working. Garrus stepped out of the taxi first and offered his hand, which Shepard gladly accepted. Once she stood, she smoothed out her dress and put her hand in the crook of Garrus’ arm.

Shepard ignored the questions as they walked the short runway into the event building. Surprisingly, they seemed to be more about her and Garrus’ relationship than the war. She had been ignoring the tabloids lately. Perhaps she’d have to start looking again.

Two Alliance officers, in full dress, stood outside the large double doors. As Shepard approached, they let out a synchronized salute. “At ease,” Shepard said.

The doors opened and they stepped inside. It had the look of a regular large conference room. Shepard was pleased to see that the Alliance apparently decided not to go all out for the evening. The decorations seemed sparse, and instead of a band, like these gatherings usually had, Shepard saw a DJ in the corner. The configuration was like any other award ceremony she had been to before. Dozens of round tables plus a long table at the head of the room, with a podium for speeches. The Councilors would be sitting up front, with various other dignitaries. Hackett’s assistant had wanted to put her up at that table and Shepard had politely refused.

Thankfully, the Alliance choose the tables everyone sat at, so Shepard simply had to check her omni-tool to see which table they were assigned. As they walked towards their table, Shepard started scouting the room, getting an idea of their surroundings. She knew from experience that Garrus had been doing the same since they stepped foot in the place.

She saw Primarch Victus, speaking to a salarian she didn’t recognize. To her surprise, Shepard noticed Aria T’Loak and Councilor Tevos speaking. Shepard knew Wrex had been invited, but he refused to leave Tuchanka. Shame. She’d love to see Wrex all dressed up for an event like this.

Once they made it to their table, Shepard watched Garrus choose their seats. He choose the same ones she would have chosen, their backs to the wall, but able to see almost the entirety of the room in front of them.

Ashley and Liara had been assigned to a table on the other side of the room, to Shepard’s disappointment. No one else sat at their table yet and Shepard wondered who they would have to make small talk with. A server walked around the table, offering champaign, both levo and dextro, and with a shared glance, she and Garrus decided to indulge. Shepard would never let herself get drunk at an event like this, but hell, she could enjoy one glass of champaign.

Their table filled quickly, and Shepard felt a smile being plastered on her face as introductions were made. Instead of important political connections or ambassadors, they paired her with wealthy donors, all human, ones that would get a kick out of and possibly write a check because they spent an evening with Commander Shepard.

Shepard tried to be understanding, she did. The Alliance needed credits, more than ever and right now credits were scarce. If the wealthy could be persuaded to give money, then the Alliance could simply do more. The thought didn’t make her feel any better.

But then right on time, dinner started arriving and Shepard could only think of the food. Fitch did her best on the  _Normandy_ , and not a day passed when Shepard wasn’t grateful that the yeoman decided to stick around after the SR-2 left Earth unexpectedly. But she didn’t have access to the fresh food all the time, and she only had so many credits to work with when planning the crew’s meals. On the  _Normandy_ , salad came out of a bag, not hand tossed with five different types of greens, freshly cut up vegetables, with raspberry vinaigrette dressing drizzled on top.

“I’m in heaven,” Shepard said to Garrus as they started to eat. She glanced at his plate, which held a bowl of what looked like some sort of light grainy food.

Turian utensils, understandably, were quite different than human utensils. Garrus ate with an item that looked like a scoop and with each bite, he titled his head back and gravity helped the food get from the utensil to his mouth. The other humans at the table seemed off put by it and Shepard chuckled, wondering what their reaction to the main course would be.

Once the salad course had been cleared and they waited for the main course, the questions started. How was the war going? What happened between you and The Illusive Man? Did all female soldiers shave their heads? Shepard answered them patiently, though refusing to answer any questions about Akuze, or her relationship with Garrus.

After yet another question about the krogan and her decisions, Shepard snuck her hand onto the table and grabbed a roll, her third, but she didn’t care. They were perfect, slightly crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside. And who knew when she would get a chance to eat like this again? A quick glance around the table and Shepard realized that many of the women realized what she did and oh would they have a story to tell tomorrow. Commander Shepard, daring to eat three bread rolls during dinner. It almost made her want to laugh.

Dinner came, chicken alfredo for her and some sort of meat based dish for Garrus. The meat was dry and thinly sliced and Shepard watched the table’s reaction as Garrus took off his right glove and picked up a slice with his bare talons. As cultured as these men and women thought themselves, if they couldn’t understand that different species ate food in different ways, she had no patience for them. She could only imagine their reactions if they watched a elcor eat from their trough type dinnerware.

But the food was delicious and made up for their dinner companions considerably. Garrus barely said a word as they ate, concentrating only on his food. Fitch tried to make him one cooked meal a day, but Shepard knew the quality simply didn’t compare to banquet food.

As the main course was cleared, Shepard zoomed in on the dessert buffet, hoping somewhere in the plates of cakes, pies and pastries, there might be some peanut butter cookies. Around them, others started standing up, ready to get in line. Shepard and Garrus did the same, but held back, not wanting to stand in line with the rest of their table.

Shepard checked her omni-tool. According the the evening’s schedule, speeches wouldn’t start for another thirty minutes, to give people a chance to mingle. “You want to walk around for a little, work off that meal?” Shepard asked.

Garrus wiped his hand carefully with a napkin then put his glove back on. “Sitting down is the last thing I want to do after that meal.” He looked around and pointed at a set of doors. “There’s an arboretum through those doors, if I remember right.”

Slipping her arm through his, they started walking. “I think that last roll was a mistake,” Shepard said as they stepped through the doors. “I feel like I’m going to pop out of my dress.”

The arboretum was dark and silent, full of trees, plants and flowers Shepard had never seen before. Instead of simulated daylight, like the rest of the Presidium, it was nighttime, the sky full of stars. “This is beautiful,” Shepard said, her voice hardly above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the magic of the place. She dreaded others from the banquet coming out here, probably for an after dinner smoke and finding things to complain about.

But for now, she and Garrus were the only ones out there. It would be so easy to pretend they were on some planet, far away from the war, with no worries and no responsibilities. Garrus took her hand, and they walked in silence, Shepard simply enjoying the feeling of her five fingers entwined with his three talons.

They made their way towards the back of the arboretum and a stray thought crossed her mind. The thought then became want, which quickly spiraled into  _need._

Shepard realized they were standing next to a sturdy looking rock wall, tall enough to conceal them from the rest of the arboretum. With a laugh, Shepard dragged Garrus behind the wall, letting him press up against her. “You’re gonna get us in trouble,” Garrus murmured as his hands settled at her waist.

“It’s dessert time,” Shepard said, her hands on his neck, bringing him down for a kiss. They kissed eagerly before parting. Shepard covered her hand with her mouth and laughed. “That was bad, even for me.”

“I’d still fall for it,” Garrus said, softly. Shepard watched as he carefully scooped the area around them, before placing all his attention on her. The desire in his eyes made Shepard need to squeeze her legs together. “You want this?” he asked, and Shepard thrilled at the desire and lust in his subvocals. “Here?”

“Fuck, yes,” Shepard said without a moment’s hesitation. This was reckless and foolish and they’d both be scorned if they were caught, but if they were, it would certainly give those donors something to talk about other than how a turian eats their dinner. “We better be quick, though.”

Her words spurred Garrus into action. He leaned down, picking up the hem of her dress, lifting it up around her waist. Shepard brought up one leg, resting her thigh on his hip spur as Garrus leaned against her. Through his dress uniform trousers, she could feel that his plates had already spread. As they started kissing again - quick and eager - Shepard took the tips of her fingers and started drawing on his neck. She knew how much he loved the featherlight touches and almost at once, she felt his cock straining against his trousers.

The thought that anyone,  _anyone,_  could walk around the corner and see them together, made her heart race even faster than normal. As Garrus started to unfasten his trousers, Shepard asked, her voice breathless as she grabbed his waist, “Are we insane?”

“It’s on the list,” Garrus said, his subvocals vulgar. The sound shot through Shepard like a crack of lightning. He needed to be inside her  _now._

Garrus slipped his arm under her thigh, raising her leg up slightly, opening her up wide for him. Shepard felt his other hand brush her cunt as pushed her underwear to the side and guided his cock into her. For just a moment, they were still as he sunk himself into her, so deep, Shepard could feel the softness of his sheath against her cunt. Shepard rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes, willing the moment to last forever, even though she knew soon it would be time to go back to war.

Shepard held onto Garrus’ waist tightly as he started to thrust. As he braced his forearm against the wall, Garrus buried his face against her neck. “Spirits, you’re so wet,” Garrus said with a grunt. He then started speaking in subvocals only, and with the way he pressed against her, Shepard could feel the vibrations course through her body.

He set a slower pace, which surprised Shepard, when they both knew this needed to be quick. Perhaps he was more nervous about being caught than he showed? Either way, she knew how to goad him on. Digging her nails into the side of his neck, Shepard asked in a rough whisper, “That all you got, Vakarian?”

The results were instant.

His pace sped up immediately and all Shepard could do was hold on, reveling in the way he filled her, the friction between them, the warmth of his cock. Shepard clenched around him as she leaned back her head and let out a quiet moan, not loud enough to be heard. She’d like to think they were both spatially aware to realize if anyone was nearby, but as they continued to fuck, her certainty went out the window.

From the change in his subvocals, now lower in pitch, Shepard could tell he would be ready to come soon. So she slipped her hand between them and started rubbing her clit. It only took a few moments before Shepard came herself, feeling her orgasm build and spreading throughout her body, causing her to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out.

Garrus followed at once, slamming into her deep, then letting out a groan against her neck. Then they were still, the only sounds their heavy breathing.

As his cock retreated back into his sheath, Shepard felt boneless in his arms, and could only imagine what she must look like. Hopefully they didn’t make too much of a mess of each other; they had to get back to the banquet room before too long. Garrus raised his head and pressed his brow against hers, his thumb idly stroking her cheek.

“We should head back,” Shepard whispered.

“We should,” Garrus said with a nod, but making no move.

“I hope the dessert table has peanut butter cookies,” Shepard said wistfully.

“And here you led me to believe you just had dessert,” Garrus said with a weak laugh. He took a step back and started adjusting his trousers.

“For after dessert, dessert, then,” she said, straightening out her underwear and then her dress. “Do I look presentable? Like someone who wasn’t just ravished?”

“You’re beautiful, Shepard,” Garrus said. “And yes, you’re fine. Me?”

Shepard looked him over. So strange to see him in black and red instead of black and blue. The colors suited him, though. Reaching out, Shepard pulled down the side of his jacket, where she had fisted the fabric a bit. Thankfully, nothing seemed to have torn.

Garrus offered her his arm, which Shepard took at once. They walked back towards the banquet room in silence, both a little worn out after the unexpected exercise. Glancing at her omni-tool, Shepard saw they had five minutes to spare before the speeches started. Plenty of time to stop by the dessert table.

To her delight, Shepard saw an entire tray of peanut butter cookies. Not caring who saw, or what anyone said, Shepard grabbed six and held them like precious cargo on the way back to the table. And as they sat down, she noticed more than one raised eyebrow at her pile of cookies.

Around them, everyone seemed to be heading back to their tables. With a content sigh, Shepard took a bite of her cookie, while slipping off one of her flats, before resting her bare foot on top of Garrus’. He gave her a  _look_ and Shepard simply smiled and ate the rest of her cookie.

At least the speeches wouldn’t be dull.


End file.
